Beautiful Innocence
by chocolate rules
Summary: Innocence: a term that describes the lack of guilt of an individual, a state of unknowing, where one's experience is lesser, in either a relative view to social peers, or by an absolute comparison to a more common normative scale. PreSeries. Now Chapter10
1. A Candace of Truth

Beautiful Innocence 

By: chocolate rules

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A/N: Okay, let me try and explain this one... It's not a one shot. And it's kind of the sequel to COMING FOR YOU, but it's also after SAFTY IN YOUR ARMS. You don't need to of read them to understand this. At least not yet. This kind of stands alone as of now, but refrences to COMING FOR YOU will be made later. As for SAFTY, it's just set during the same time period.

Dean's 17 and Sammy's 12. Call it Feb. :)

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Chapter 1: A Candace of Truth

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He couldn't take it anymore. He was sure he was going to blow. He shouldn't have to take it. No one else had to. Everyone else could be, what was it Sam liked to call it, normal. He wasn't normal. He was a freak. That didn't bother him. Nothing really bothered him. But then it seemed like everything did.

He hated the hunting almost as much as Sammy. Not for the same reasons, but with the same amount of hate. He hated what the hunt had done to his father, to his family. He hated how his world had been changed so abruptly. Hated how wrong everything was turning out. He didn't know how to calm his worry and troubles and he worried that if he didn't then there'd be some bad consequences. Things could go wrong. And when things went wrong, Sammy usually ended up hurt.

Dean lied awake in his bed. He was thinking about so many things and he hated that, the thinking. It wasn't healthy for him. It was three in the morning and he could hear all the movements in the house. The winds outside, the fridge, his father's light snoring from the couch in the living room, Sammy's soft crying, the cat in the alleyway….

Dean sat up and looked around his darkened room as if it'd give him any answers. Sammy's soft crying? Why was Sammy crying? And why was he still sitting there asking himself that? He got up from the bed and headed to the other bedroom.

Their current residence only had two bedrooms. Usually, that meant Dean and Sam shared a room while John got the other. However, to both of the brother's surprise, John had announced that they would each get a room. That he would rarely be spending any time there and that they each needed to grow as individuals. Especially Sam.

Dean looked over into the living room and assured himself his father really was asleep before entering Sam's room. It was practically pitch black, something terribly uncommon in Sammy's room. There was, however, a small residue of light coming from under the covers. Dean walked towards the bed and pulled the covers back slowly.

Sam sat in the middle of his bed, head resting on his knees and arms wrapped around him. He sat in his pajama bottoms and a tank top. He shivered at the new impact of the cold air around him.

Dean sat beside his brother. Sam finally acknowledged his presence by looking up at him through the tear filled eyes.

"What's the matter, Sam?" Sam shook his head. "You can tell me, Sammy. "Whatever it is." Again, Sam shook his head no. Dean would've rolled his eyes, had he not been so worried at the moment. Sam again dropped his head to his arms. He continued to sob, trying to not make it known to the elder.

Dean edged closer and, clasping both hands on either side of his head, brought Sam to face him again.

"What's the matter, Sam?" he asked again. This Time there was a firmer tone to his question. "Answer me, Sam." Dean tried to order, but it came out as a soft request.

"It's… it's nothing, Dean. Honest." Sam tried to say truthfully through his tears.

"Now, don't start lying to me. You know you won't be able to pull it off." Sam looked down, but once again Dean forced him to look at him by taking his chin and bringing it up. "Let's try this again."

"I was just scared, that's all." Dean nodded, patting Sam's head softly as his other hand kept Sam looking at him.

"About?" Sam shrugged. "Sam! Just tell me."

"You'll think I'm a baby."

"I already do. And you are." Dean said, releasing Sam's chin and grabbing hold of both of Sam's arms. Sam looked a little hurt, so Dean quickly added, "Well, you're always going to be the baby. Unless you know of some magical potion out there that can make you older than me, you're going to have to learn to deal with that."

"But, you're going to think that I'm a real baby. It's stupid, Dean. I was just a little scared. And I'm better now." Sam said, trying to play it all of with a smile. It was a calming smile, a rare charmer, but Dean knew better than to trust the twelve year-old's features. Sam was only 'better' now, because Dean had arrived and they both knew it.

"Sure you are." Dean said, sarcastically. "So, I guess I can just, get back to my room, close my door, and reenter that blissful land of sleep?"

"Yeah." Sam tried to say convincingly. However, the crack in his voice said another tale.

"What's so bad that you can't tell me?" Sam looked like he was about to play it off again. But, when he looked at Dean, he knew that his brother wouldn't really judge him and that if he did, he wouldn't mean it. Dean would make it all better, one way or another.

"It's not like a monster, or anything." Sam said. He wanted to make clear that not only was this something Dean couldn't go out there and kill, it was also something that Sam knew couldn't hurt him. Or rather kill him.

"It's okay to have normal nightmares, Sam." Dean said, surprisingly sweetly. Sam nodded and continued.

"These kids, in school, they said that cause I didn't have a mom, I was condemned to hell. I told them that wasn't how it worked, but then this one kid, Josh, his father's a priest. And Josh said that that is how it works. He said that I was going to hell because I had no mother to teach me right from wrong. But then, you and Dad did teach me right from wrong. And Dad said that only demons and such go to hell." Sam let out a small whimper.

"Dad's right, Sam. You're not going to hell. You know the kind of things that go to hell better than anyone there…"

"But," interrupted Sam. "Josh's father is a Reverend, Dean! He knows!"

"Josh knows nothing! And I doubt Josh's father would want him spreading that kind of bullshit around." Dean said quickly. "I know what kind of person you are, Sammy. You're not the type that goes to hell…"

"But, I'm trained to KILL, Dean! Killers go to hell!…"

"Sam! You're not listening!" Dean said a little loudly. Then, remembering that his father was sleeping in the living room, he continued to whisper. "You don't kill Sammy, we hunt. And we hunt things that are hurting others. We help. We're like…"

"Evil Bitch Hunters?" offered Sam, remembering the phrase his brother had previously used earlier that morning. Dean shot him a look that said 'You know you shouldn't be talking like that', but he didn't reprimand him.

"We're the good guys, Sammy."

"The good guys?" Sam repeated. He rolled his eyes, with a smile. He took his flashlight and shined it at Dean. "The good guys, eh. Where are our costumes?" Dean laughed, as he brought a hand up to block the light.

"I said the good guys, Sammy, not Superheroes!" Sam placed the flashlight down with a pout.

"I wanna be a Superhero." It was Dean's turned to shake his head.

"What are you now, like five?"

"Hey! You're that one who said I was the baby!" Sam said defending himself.

"Yeah, yeah you are!" Dean said. Then, he reached over and started tickling the little boy. "And don't you ever forget it!"

Sam was trying to roll away from the persistent hands, but he seemed to roll into them. After about a minute, Dean stopped tickling him and Sam started to breathe again. Dean pulled the boy into a sitting position.

"So, you okay?" Sam nodded the smile still on his face. "You're sure?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." then, with a shrug he added, "It was stupid anyway."

"No, it wasn't stupid. They were taunting you. You let them get in your head, but its okay. Now, you can go and tell them that they were wrong and if they bother you again, especially that Josh kid, just come and tell me. Okay?"

"I can fight my own battles, Dean." Sam said trying to convey a look of power and maturity. The look, however, was lost on his brother.

"I'll believe that, when I see it. Until then, everyone's gonna have to answer to me, first. Got it?"

"Yeah. I got it. You just want to show off to some girls. Defending little brothers from their school bullies, must get on great with the ladies." Sam said slyly. Dean reached out and bobbed him on the head.

"Not as well as sticking up for your baby brother does, I assure you." then, he arose from the bed and headed to Sam's nightlight, flicked it on. "Now get some sleep. A little kid your age shouldn't be up this late."

"Screw you." said Sam as he pulled the covers once again over him.

"And that's not the kind of language proper for a little kid." Dean said pointing his finger at him.

"Bug off," Sam said rolling his eyes. Dean walked over to him and tucked him in.

"A little kid like you should get plenty of sleep. He should stop worrying so much. As long as I'm around, nothing can touch you. Not that Josh kid, not any monster, not hell itself."

"Nothing?" Sam asked, voice already settling in once again for sleep.

"Nothing!" Dean silently assured him. Then he leaned down and kissed his forehead lightly. "Night kiddo."

"Night, Dean." Sam replied as his flashlight was tugged out of his hand.

Dean turned off the flashlight and set it on the nightstand beside the bed. Then he headed out the room, leaving the door slightly open. He started to walk back to his room when he heard his father speak behind him.

"He okay?" John asked from the bathroom doorway. Dean turned around, surprisingly startled.

"Yeah, he's fine now." Dean said he stepped closer to his father and noticed how the man appeared to be readying to leave. 'You leaving already?' Dean wondered. "New gig," he asked. John nodded, applying aftershave.

"Yeah, got a call a minute ago."

"Where now?"

"In Nebraska."

"Nebraska? Dad that's like a four hour drive!" John nodded, ignoring the worry in his teen's voice. He walked in to the living room, closely followed by Dean.

"I know that. And the sooner I get there, the less people will die." he said, gathering his things. "Take care of yourselves."

"At least go and say goodbye to him." John heard Dean say from behind him as he reached the front door.

"Dean, I don't have the time. Just tell him good bye for me."

"Dad, you told him you'd at least say goodbye the next time. Well…"

"I don't have the time, Dean!" John said opening the door. "And I can't waste it talking with you either. Now, you know the drill. Lock the door and I want you both home right after school. Keep safe. Bye." And with that, Dean Winchester was left alone.

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So? What do you think. Abviously, the boys are going to be alone. And abviously, that Josh is not getting away with bothering Sam. This story will involve both natural and supernatural angst. Or, at least that's what I'm aiming for. Any helpful hints, comments, and suggestions are welcomed.

(Purple Button Is Your Friend!)

PS: Don't Question Title, it just is. I don't know what I meant by it. It just is! Okay, the rest will try to make sense :)


	2. Normal Days

Beautiful Innocence 

By: chocolate rules

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A/N: Hey! How's everyone! Well, here's chapter 2 of Beautiful Innocence! Like I said in chap 1, this is going to be both normal and supernatural. Still with the normal :) 

Read:

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Ok, this might be weird to read. There's not much dialogue, but there's enough imagery going on that I think it's okay! The story line switches from Dean to Sam and back to Dean, so on and so on. But, it's pretty obvious:)

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Chapter 2: Normal Days 

Sam Winchester awoke and instantly knew that something was missing. He looked around and noticed Dean wasn't in the room. But that wasn't it. Dean was always awake real early. Something else was missing.

Sam got up and made his way to the bathroom. Once he'd showered and brushed his teeth and hair, he slowly made his way to the kitchen. In the kitchen stood a very animated seventeen year old. The mess being made was hidden behind the initial wave of the great smells that meant only one thing - breakfast.

"Gooood morning!" said Dean cheerfully. Sam looked at his older brother, in apron and all, rummaging through what seemed to be grocery bags and filling up the refrigerator. Sam couldn't help but laugh as he went and sat at the table.

"Morning." he replied. "Where'd all this come from? Did Dad finally remember to buy some grub?" Sam said as he gave the food a glance over, since Dean was quickly putting everything away. At his question, Dean stopped momentarily before continuing again.

"No," and then wondering whether or not to tell Sam about their father, concluded that the boy would figure it out pretty fast anyway. "He left already, Sammy. Left last night." He glanced back and as he had predicted, Sam's head hung low. Damn you, Dad.

"But, he said he'd say goodbye this time." Dean stopped putting things away and urged rather to return to making Sam a three star meal! (or so he called it!).

"I know, kiddo. But he was really in a hurry." Dean said, and he instantly hated himself for having to stick up for the man.

"Yeah, that's fine. I just thought that he would this time." Sam said sadly. As if right on cue, Dean appeared beside him with two plates filled with the

"Dean Winchester special! Making it's rare and much welcomed appearance." he looked over to the twelve year old and whispered, "Say hello, Sam."

"Hello Sam!" Sam said as he eyed the plates. Each plate was filled with at least three eggs worth of scramble, four toasts, and in the grand center - five perfectly stacked chocolate chip pancakes.

Dean practically ripped off the apron as he sat down beside his brother and picked up his fork, beginning to eat. Sam did the same, and after half his eggs and two pancakes, he got up and got them both some orange juice and the syrup bottle. Once they finished those pancakes, Dean brought out three more for each. By the time all the food was eaten, the boys had barely ten minutes to get ready for school, and Dean was still in his pajama bottoms.

"Did you do all your homework?"

"Do I ever!" came Dean's reply as he ran between their room and the bathroom trying to account for all his things.

"Well, I did your math and English, what else did you have?"

"Physics, Latin, and some report!" Sam rolled his eyes, so typical of Dean. He always managed to get away with it though. No matter how many times a teacher assigned something, Dean still managed to not hand it in on time (if at all) and find some brilliant excuse as to why the tardiness occurred and how he shouldn't be penalized.

"Well, you better do that report! Dad said you better not fail anything this quarter, or else you can't drive! And no solos!" Dean emerged from the hall, dressed, shaven, and with his book bag hanging over his shoulder.

"When did he say that?" Sam held out the homework he'd done and shook his head at his brother.

"After your last report card. He even told you not to forget! Dean, if you fail again, he's going to be pissed!" Dean rolled his head, securing the papers in the bag.

"Whatever, let's just go, man." he said as he walked past Sam heading towards the door. Sam however, stayed behind.

"What is it, Sammy?" Sam nudged his head towards the kitchen. It still portrayed Dean's messy meal preparage . Dean looked into the kitchen, too. He shrugged it off and turned towards the door, pulling Sam along with him.

"We'll get it when we come back. It's not like Dad's here or anything."

School:

Dean sat in yet another class that day dozing off. He could care less about…what class was he in? Who cared! He sat behind this rather tall, fat boy named David and was completely covered from view when he placed his head on the desk before him. That's how most of his classes went. He'd sit in the back and fall asleep. Mainly, the teachers didn't care. They had read his transcript and were glad that he decides not to participate. Participation for Dean Winchester usually did not involve anything good. He'd find a way to ridicule something or mock, mimic, jeopardize, you name it! the kid had done it!

Sam was the polar opposite of his brother. He was very alert and attentive in his classes. He'd sit in the front, as close to the direct center as possible. Dean never understood what fascination his brother held towards academics, but he always encouraged the boy none the same. Sam's teachers loved it when he participated. He had such an insight onto every material. His transcripts surprised them with the amount of trouble he had caused. All were minor things, but apparently he and his brother had managed to get into a bio lab and had gone through the cabinets. Before anyone found them or could stop them, the two had mixed themselves up some Laughing gas! They had both been suspended for three days and had return on the third with the money difference to the damages and materials they had used.

Between classes, Dean meets up with girls. He goes to a corner with his friends and finds many girls checking him out. He loves that! Sometimes, a girl is brave enough to walk over and talk to him. Usually, he frees up his weekend and gives the girl a 'good ol' time'. Then, he returns to his next class and continues to sleep. That is until lunch! Lunch, which we all know, is the boy's favorite subject of the day! He'll get stuffed silly. The food wasn't even all that bad! It is in my school ;) And then he heads to his last period class, gym!

At lunch, Sam's eighth grade class had to sit together like every other stupid grade in the school. He couldn't wait to go to high school. Then he wouldn't have to be forced to sit by the people that bothered him. These people were Josh and Ted, the two biggest and meanest kids in Sam's entire grade. Originally, he had tried to ignore them. Now, they were drawn to him. It was like ignoring them brought them closer to him. He tried to do other things, like homework or drawing, but that seemed to annoy them and they'd bother him even more. 'This must be how Dean feels when I won't stop pestering him, hm karma.' But, eventually, lunch was over -like ever day- and he went on to another class that he was than likely acing. And then, he'd go to gym were he was luckily doing really well cause all they were doing was climbing ropes and John had been making them do that for years. And knowing that after gym, he was home free always gave him an extra energy boost, even if he did have the class with Josh.

And so, 3 o'clock finally rolled around and both Winchesters couldn't of been happier. Dean hated going to school and so leaving it made him happy, and though Sam liked school he hated the bullies. And, since their father wasn't home, going back to the apartment also meant no sparring, no lessons, no weapon checks, and no research. Tonight they'd get to be normal.

Normalcy for Dean went as far as pestering Natalie Sands for a date. She 'hated' him, but he knew how woman worked. They only hated what they didn't understand. No one understood Dean Winchester. And Nat was a really popular girl. Dean could quite possible be the most popular guy, he was so mysterious, but he wasn't very social. Rarely attended parties he was invited to. However, if he didn't have a hunt to do or some rather exhausting training to endure, you could be sure to find one Dean Winchester pestering little Sam into some reckless activity.

Nat liked him, he knew it. He could wait for her to know it too. He liked the occasional challenge. I mean, it's pretty easy to let yourself be carried away if all you're ever told is how hot you are. Dean liked the reassurance once in a while. Today, he managed to slip her his phone number. The truth was, that number was floating around all over the school as it was that he really didn't need to give it to her. However, he noticed that when he had produced the number, she'd blushed. Yes! I'm in, he thought.

Dean drove over to the middle school to pick up little Samuel. He was happy today and so ACDC was blasting throughout the car and the street.

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...and Review! 


	3. Fights and the Winchesters

Beautiful Innocence 

By: chocolate rules

A/N: WoW! It's impossible to upload a chapter now:-OSo, I wrote this chapter out like three days ago and since then it has been forever to try and figure out howto post it.I think may others are sufferingfrom this too. I had to transfer this on through Notepad. Apparently .txt. documents still come in. :D So,I've never used notepad and if it has anything missing or something,it's not my fault.

Anyways! Summer's here :D!and I'll be focusing onfinishing up all my stories so here's an update. The first two chapters were fixed up from grammer or spelling errors that were bothring me and I had to use notepad on them too.So, here's the next chapter...

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Chapter 3: Fights and the Winchesters

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Last chapter..._Dean drove over to the middle school to pick up little Samuel. He was happy today and so ACDC was blasting throughout the car and the street._

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Sam's normal after school activities were as loathed by the young boy as the day's activities were. More so, since it involved being alone and unsupervised with the few things in this world that he hated, Josh, Ted and Roger the third pester.

A few minutes after the final bell, Sam emerged with the last of the kids and started to walk down the road some to where Dean picked him up. He had stayed a little behind in hopes that he would be able to avoid the trio and be there just in time for Dean to pull in.

"Boy! Sure is a hot day today!" a voice said from behind Sam. A snicker followed, but Sam kept on walking down the road some and really, really wished that Dean would already be there. That way, he could just slip into the Impala and not really have to back out of anything and later be called a wuss or anything.

"Aww, come on Teddy! It's not that bad!" came a second voice.

"Yeah, Teddy, Roge is right! It's not like it's hot as hell, anyway. Is it Sammy?"

Sam kept on walking and turned the corner. He didn't spot the black Chevy in its usual location and his heart started throbbing quicker. He was going to be stuck with these bullies for the time being. However, he kept on walking to the exact spot where his brother would pull up and sat down on the curb.

Roger and Josh sat on either side of him and Sam was wondering if sitting down had been the best idea.

"Hey Sam?" said Josh as he placed his right arm around Sam's shoulder's and leaned in as if to whisper some age old secret. "Think it's as hot in here as it is in hell? Me and Roger here were just wondering." Roger nodded along but Sam starred intently at the concrete road beneath his shoes.

"Come on, Sammy. If you don't tell us, how the hell are we ever going to know?"

"Yeah Sam," said Ted from somewhere behind the crouched trio. "It's not like we've had a first hand experience on this kind of thing or anything."

"Leave me alone," murmured Sam. Roger leaned into Sam as if he hadn't heard what he had said.

"What was that Sammy? You want us to walk you home?" And the trio giggled the way young childhood devils only can.

"Gosh Sam, we can't. My father forbids me to have ay contact with the devil or any of his faithless followers." Josh said.

"Yeah, and my mom would just hate me to get mixed in with the wrong crowd." added Roger.

"Yeah, like your mother, for one!" said Ted once again from behind them.

"No, like yours!" Sam growled through his teeth.

"What did you say to me!" asked a now anger Ted. Sam's eyes narrowed like they do when he's getting mad. Roger and Josh both slide away from his side. Sam bolted up and turned to face Ted. He decided that he couldn't just let these kids walk all over him. And besides, Dean was due to appear any second now.

"I said that your mother is a follower of the devil himself! I bet he's your father even! I mean, come on look at you!" Sam yelled and he pointed at Ted's face and started to laugh.

Ted did not take this so lightly and shoved Sam to the ground. He stood over Sam and started panting like he was a ragged animal, but he didn't start pounding on Sam and for the time being Sam was grateful. However, he was a Winchester through and through and he couldn't keep his mouth shut. This wasn't the first time that he had tried talking their game, but this was the first time that it had achieved some sort of power shift. And all the Winchester in him told him to persist, if he was going to go down, he'd put on a hell of a fight.

"Surely, Josh could tell you. He has special connections with this kind of thing. He's father's a preacher you know. He knows all about hell. I bet that's just where he was pulled from too!" And a right jab met his jaw.

Josh was on top of Sam in a matter of seconds. Sam responded with a jab to Josh's stomach and they were off. The two were a mix of fury, but Sam was clearly in the losing end. Sam was naturally a small and skinny kid and was no match for the slightly over the average weight Josh.

Around them, Roger and Ted were cheering Josh on and some how other kids that were walking home found themselves surrounding the excitement. Sam switches into the defense and starts trying to block Josh's blows rather then land a few of his own.

Dean pulls onto the side road leading to Sam's school. Instantly his stomach dropped and he pulled over just beside the roughly ten person mob. He turned off the car and hear d all the muffled scream and cheers. There were two boys in the middle that were loudly cheering for a Josh to beat the crap out of 'him'. Dean dashed into the group, knowing without forewarning that the 'him' was Sammy.

"Yo!" Dean yelled as he pushed through the kids to the center. There lied Sam beneath a kid that weighs roughly thirty pounds more than him. He was trying to roll away as Josh round on his face and ribs and stomach unceremoniously.

Dean reached down and pulled the little punk off his brother. This was a hard feat, that Josh kid was only a few inches shorter than Dean and could probably match his body weight and then some. Not knowing what had caused the disruption, Josh kept kicking Sam until Dean flipped him around and with one solid punch he landed a few inches from Sam's place on the ground.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" yelled Dean to the fat kid. He was radiating anger and the crowd noticed. As kids do in such tense situations were they wish to always appear as angels, the crowd fled. Dean noticed the two boys that were in the circle themselves screaming running off.

He reached out to stop them from leaving, demand some answers from someone, but only managed to grab a hold of Ted as Roger flew away with the rest of the kids. Josh was sprawled on the floor, looking up to Dean as he reached down and hauled Sam to his feet.

"Who the hell are you?" Josh said as he leaned up onto his elbows. Sam was standing beside this guy, brushing himself off, and the guy was looking pissed.

Choosing to completely ignore the kid still flat on his ass, Dean released the struggling Ted, flipping him so as he could see both boys at once.

"What the hell's going on here?" Dean asked. His voice was filled with venom and even if they didn't know what interest this guy had, they knew they were in trouble.

Sam stood slightly behind Dean watching as the anger rolled off in waves and kept the other two boys firmly in their places. Dean had already taken Josh out, something that Sam sure as heck couldn't do himself, and Ted would be a meaningless little obstacle in comparison.

None of the boys say anything and Dean isn't anymore calm, if that's what they were waiting for. Dean had settled back some with his arms crossed now and was looking between all three of the preteens.

"Since you seemed so animated before," Dean started talking straight to Ted. Ted slightly caught off guard, in took a sharp breath as Dean looked eyes with him. Dean's peripheral vision was watching Josh for any movement and Sammy because he was always doing that. "Why don't you go ahead and tell me what's happening here." And the way Dean said, it was neither a question nor a request, it was a command.

"I… I don't know anything." Ted started. He stopped immediately when what seemed like fire enter the hazel green color of Dean's eyes. Hazel green eyes like Sam's, which they had made fun of him for because they were 'pretty' like a girl's and they had called him girly for it.

Eyes like Sam's, oh shit, thought Ted as realization overtook his initial fear. He knew then that he and Josh were not going to like this one bit, but they were not going to be able to make a run for it like Roger had been able to do. Especially Josh, cause he can't run real well. And Ted was an okay friend in that he knew that if he left Josh – the ringleader- then Josh would be pissed like hell.

"I don't really have the time for this shit," Dean gritted out. To make his point even clearer, he took a step towards the boys and dropped his arms to his sides, hands forming noticeable fists.

Josh took that moment to try and stand up. His acuity was slightly shaken before from the impact that this guy had given him. He was by far slower than Ted and could still not see the real danger in the situation.

"Look," Josh said once on his feet. He was a bully through and through and he did not like to fall victim to the same down gazing feeling. His voice was as firm as a thirteen year old can make it and his gaze was slightly threatening. Of course it didn't match up to Dean's and it didn't come close to causing him to falter even slightly.

"This has nothing to do with you," Josh continued. "So, stop being all Good Samaritan and walk away now." Nothing.

No wait, Dean started to laugh. Not like, 'wow funny kid, that's cute' laugh. No, it was more of a cynical laughter. That seemed to throw Josh back some. Normally, if this had been an adult he would have been knee-deep in tears, fake of course, trying to pull himself from all kinds of trouble. But Dean was just some kid, albeit slightly taller and older, but some kid all the same.

"Man, you sure are stupid." Dean said clearly through a wide grin. And if Josh had an ounce of brain cells, he would turn tail and run. No such luck.

"So, look, I could care less what the hell happened here, but the outcomes of it I sure didn't like. Seemed like an unfair fight to me. You must weigh at least thirty pounds more than him. Could kill the kid by just sitting on him, couldn't you. And you had your little friends around, cheering you on and all. Keeping the other kids back but motivated. I know how it all works." Dean said, he took a step towards Josh, who actually took a step back.

No one had really ever tried to stop him before. It was common knowledge that he was a bully, but even the older kids knew that he could talk his way out of things, just because he was a preacher's kid.

But, no one had given Dean that memo.

"So, I'm going to say this, real short" step forward, "and sweet" another step "Stay away" right on Josh's face now "from Sam, or live to regret it. Got that?"

"Why the hell should I listen to you?" Josh asked, trying to get the firm tone back in his own voice.

"Because, I really hate it when dipshits like you start picking on my kid brother," Dean practically spat on his face.

Ok, now Josh got it. A little too late, but at least he got it.

"You're his brother?" Josh asked, no firmness in his voice now, all gone and given way to something akin to fear.

An evil smirk appeared on Dean's lips as he replied, "And don't you forget."

Dean turned around and walks back to Sam. Sam's looking back at his brother, cut lip and darkening eye and cheek. Dean turns back and looks back at both of the other boys.

"If anything happens to him, you will pay. Got that?" Dean asked again, same vengeance driven voice but he turned and walked over to the Impala. Sam was right on his heels and not even a few seconds later they were peeling out.

Ted and Josh stood silently there looking at the where Dean had last stood. Ted broke the stillness by going over to his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder.

"Guess he's not as defenseless as we thought," Ted said looking back to Josh. He walked over to where Josh was now standing having picked up his own bag. "Well, guess Sam's out of the picture now." Ted said referring to the numerous kids that they constantly picked on – rather then the kids that they would just bump into and mess around with for a little while. Sam had been there favorite pick recently, but there were still others.

"Teddy, are you kidding me." Josh said rubbing his jaw. "This little heroic act of his brother just made him my main target." Josh said. He turned around and headed back to the direction of the school and his home further down. "You coming over?" Josh called back to the motionless Ted.

Ted was looking back to where the Chevy had been. He remembered the look of Sam's brother and slightly shivered. He was no chicken shit, but he knew he wouldn't be able to take this kid, especially if he was mad. He could tell that this guy would make good on his threat and really, really hated to think about what Josh was planning against Sam.

He still hated the kid, but damn if it meant that they stop pestering him and he never see that brother of his again against his brother coming back and beating them all to pulp, well there really was no competition. At least not in his mind…

"Yeah," he called back as he rushed to catch up wit his friend.

…Josh was a different story.

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**the next chapter, I will be getting towards the supernatural :D...until then, please review!**


	4. Check In, Call Out

Beautiful Innocence

By: chocolate rules

A/N: OK, I lied. I'm holding out on the supernatural for a few more chapters. I got another idea as I was writing this chapter and I think I'll go with that one instead. Originally, the big bad of the sotry was going to make it's appearance in the next chapter... but it won't so don't wait up for it, lol.

Also, if you read my profile, you'll see that I changed the title of this chapter. That other chapter will come in later. Before the big bad. If you read it, then when you see the title, you'll have a heads up:D

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Chapter 4: Check In, Call Out

* * *

They're in the car, driving home and the silence and eerie. Sam is curled into himself as he watches the passing houses and people on the sidewalk. Dean's tense. He's gripping the wheel of the Impala, knuckles turning white. 

Usually, there is quite a lively conversation that is mainly one-sided from Sam with Dean's occasional grunt of understanding. The kid loved to talk about what he'd done at school and what he had to do still, like they were rewards. Honestly, Dean preferred the days that Sam got into the car and said that he hated some teacher and there method of teaching or test or project, it didn't matter what it was just that it had pissed the kid of. It proved to Dean that they were in fact related.

Now, however, Dean was so not pleased with the kid it wasn't even funny. God, how could Sammy be so stupid! He could just let that happen to him. But Dean saw Sammy fighting them off, and the other kids, the one he'd nab and the one that had ran off, they probably would have held him down if he tried anything.

No, truth was that Dean wasn't mad at the kid, he was mad at himself.

Sam had been waiting for him like he told him to do and exactly where Dean told him he'd be. The kid had done nothing wrong, except maybe piss of the local bullies.

It was Dean's fault, he concluded, since he had stayed behind and just had _had_ to talk with Natalie. Even if he had scored a date, he had left his baby brother unprotected and that was just unacceptable.

Of course none of this was going to be told to the younger when they got home.

Dean parked the car in their driveway and sat in the silent car. Sam looked at him, not sure if he was to wait for something or get his ass into the house. Then, Dean turned to him. He looked so pissed that Sam wished he had run off into the house. Truth was, he wasn't even sure what he was scared of. He had put up a good enough fight. Dean should appreciate that. Sam just wanted to get inside and get cleaned up.

Dean saw the fear and uncertainty in Sam's overall appearance the second he turned. Ok, so he was going to feel like an ass after this, but the kid had to learn to stand up for himself, not take shit.

"What the hell happened back there Sam?" Dean asked for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Sam looked down and that wasn't the answer he wanted.

Dean was very rarely rough with his brother and he would never, not ever, hurt the kid. They both knew that for given. But sometimes he really needed to pound some sense into that kid.

Dean reached over, grabbing Sam's chin and lifting it up to meet his gaze. Scared eyes met Dean's unfazing ones. They asked the question once more and Sam couldn't _not_ respond.

"They followed me there. After school. And, I dunno, words were said and then he shoved me down. And we started to fight." Sam said very softly. Though he was look right at Dean's eyes, he really couldn't see what effect the words had on him quite yet.

Dean released his chin but they kept the gaze locked and his eyes gazed softened slightly.

"What did you say?" Dean asked leaning back on the seat, though not looking relaxed one bit. Sam knew that dean wasn't about to place the blame on him, heck he'll probably be pretty proud of him in fact. But Dean liked the entire story and he made his own decisions.

"They started with that same hell thing." Sam offered as a response.

"Sam, I already told you that was all fake." Dean said slightly irritated.

"I know, but…"shrugged Sam. He looked down, finally breaking the look.

Dean opened the car door and told Sam to follow. They entered the house silently, dropped off their bags, and went into the living room where Sam sat in the center of the couch awaiting any further questions.

Dean continued from the living room and into the bathroom where he retrieved the first aid kit. Or rather the hunter's survival kit because theirs was way packed with more things than any old first aid kit wouldn't have. He made his way back into the living room and kneeled in front of Sam. He placed the kit beside his brother and began to work.

"Talk," he said after wiping the dried blood from his face and checking his nose to make sure that it wasn't really broken or something.

And so Sam did. He said everything that he remembered them saying and his responses to them. Like he thought, by the time that he finished, Dean was flashing him his patented grin. Everything was ok.

"You can't let them get to you like that, Sammy," Dean said towards the end of his story. Sam nodded, which just made Dean roll his eyes because he was currently trying to place some kind of small Band-Aid on his cheek, but he keeps moving.

Dean made him lie down on the couch and he checked over his ribs and made sure that nothing there was broken. Granted, by now the kid probably would have been complaining about the pain, it was still in his nature to fuss over him.

And fuss he did since the whole time he spent checking over the possibilities he spent telling the kid how he should have blocked or counter blocked all the punches the little punk was throwing at him.

He followed the lecture, making Sam flip over to unnecessarily check over any bumps on his back and head, with how he should have never gotten in the fight in the first place. He ended that one telling Sam that he was to wait for him from now on in the building and then he'd pick him up right in front of the building.

"Come on, man," Sam said sitting up finally and rolling his eyes. He hugged his arms to his torso, which had been hurt but nothing more than busing would occur Dean assured him(self).

"Nope, unless you're looking for another one of those beatings, you're going to wait for your hero of a big brother in that school of yours like a good little boy, got it?" Dean said as he stood and flopped down on the couch beside Sam, leaving the kit on his other side.

"That's totally gay, man" whined Sam as he turned to look at him.

"Too bad, that's how it's going to be, Minion, and there will be no peep out of you otherwise," Dean said as he fished out the remote from the seat cushion, they always seemed to end up there when Sammy or Dad feel asleep watching something, and turned on the TV.

They stayed there, ignoring completely the mess that the morning meal had made and watched reruns of some crappy TV shows until Sam announced he was hungry and turned to him expecting some reaction obviously.

"Ugh! _Fine!_," said Dean as he shoved Sam off him and heaved himself off the couch and into the kitchen.

It was a mess, but he could easily work around it. Both boys seemed to drop the military upbringing the second their father left. It was only when their father called saying he was on his way back that they would go into a frenzy and get everything back in shape. It was pretty ugly when he didn't call.

So, Dean went off to make dinner, spaghetti and meatballs his personal favorite which he had perfected the last eight years since he first, uhum, burnt them. _Great story, ask Sam_. Sammy curled up by the armrest, grabbed the quilt that was always by the couch – cause someone always managed to fall asleep there – and settled in to watch some cartoons. Not two minutes into the show and the phone rings.

"Get that!" Dean yells from the kitchen, and sure the phone's an arm length's away from him, and he still doesn't want to get it. _Riiinnnggg_. "Dude! Today!" he calls out again and fine, he reaches over and brings the receiver to his ear, still watching the TV.

"Yeah," replies Sam into the device.

"Now, I know you were taught more manners than that young man," he hears his father say.

"Oh, hey, Dad," he says and he can't keep the tone of annoyance out of his voice. John had to know that was coming, Sammy hated it when he didn't say that he was leaving to him.

"Everything alright?" John asks ignoring his son's tone.

"Umhmm," Sam replies, attention on the TV still.

"Where's your brother?" he asks, knowing that when Sam's like this and they're on the phone the kid can be a real hardass.

"Dinner," was Sam's one word answer. Never mind that that didn't clarify whether he was out bringing home dinner or in the kitchen making dinner. No, everything was a mind game when it came to his youngest. However, knowing his eldest, he was pretty sure that he meant in the kitchen.

"Care to put him on?" he asked.

"Sure," Sam replied. He pulled the phone slightly away from his ear and yelled out to his brother. "_Dean! Phone!"_

"Bring it here, you dumbass! Unless you want to have milk for dinner." Sam groaned but lifted himself and walked over to the kitchen. Dean stood in a white apron that only covered over his jeans and a towel over his shoulder. _My brother, the chef_, thought Sam as he handed over the handheld device.

Sam walked back over to the couch and belly flopped down onto it. He could hear the slight murmur of his brother responding to their father. But since he could still hear the TV, which he had slightly turned down in consideration of the phone call, he was ok.

He was all into solving how the mystery murder was when he heard Dean hang up and the noises in the kitchen fade. He flipped over sharply when Dean hit his thigh and told him that Dad said to mind himself or else before flipping back onto his tummy with a 'yeah, yeah'.

Dean was making those cooking noises in the kitchen again and it turned out that the old lady with that one eyed cat had been the murder, and she would have gotten away with it too if it weren't for those…

_RIIINNNNGGG_

Sam rolled his eyes and wasn't this just his day. Sam sat back up as Dean yelled at him to get the phone again. This time, he opted to be nicer and satisfy Dad with his _manners_.

"Hello, who is calling?" he asked like a machine. Machine's have manners, right?

"Umm, Dean?" came a girl's voice.

"No, this is Sam, Dean's brother. Hold on, I'll get him." Sam said as he smirked at the thought of what he could potentially do with this call, i.e. the evil smirk. But then again, Dean _was_ making his meal. He even opted to walk the phone over to him this time.

"What?" asked Dean as he saw Sam approach him.

"For you," he said holding out the phone. Dean made a face and Sam just shrug as Dean took the device once again.

"Hello?" he says into it and Sam's walking away, slowly since he kind of wants to know who this girl is – probably his brother's latest 'victim'. "Oh, hey Nat." Dean said as he held the phone with his shoulder and continued to cook. The spaghetti part of the meal was easy, but Dean liked to make his own sauce, which both Sam and Dad had learned to love, and that took some time.

Sam reached the couch and sat on the armrest as he continued to try and listen to the conversation. However, though the conversation lasted well over seven minutes, all he heard from Dean were 'uhuh', 'yeah', and 'sure'. Sam couldn't help thinking what a waste of time that had been as he plopped backwards onto the couch once more.

Dean came in, replaced the device and watched him for a second.

"Don't you have things to do?" he asks him. Sam looks up and nods. "Well?"

"Well what? Since when do you care about homework?"

"Mine, never. Yours is a different story." Yeah, and hadn't he heard that about everything in his life. Sam rolled his eyes. "Get it done," he says and walks back to the sweet smelling kitchen.

Sam pushes himself off the couch and walks over to his bag. He grabs a few of his things and goes back over to the couch. He sits crossed legged with his math book propped open in his lap and the notebook open on top of it, but all his attention is on the TV.

Ten minutes later and dinner's done. Dean comes in sees and shakes his head. Smart kid as Sam is, the lack of Dad around and suddenly there's more interesting things to do then the homework he insist he needs the extra time to do instead of sparring. He grabs the towel off his shoulder and swats Sam on the back of the head.

"Hey!" Sam says accusingly as he turns back to glare at him.

"I'm done. Go eat." He says as he starts walking towards the bathroom. Sam drops his books on the floor and rushes to eat. He's well into scooping his second serving, luckily Dean makes a bunch at a time, when Dean comes back from the bathroom bathed, shaven, and dressed.

"Where ya going?" Sammy asks him as he appears besides him. Dean looks at him oddly before grabbing the nearest towel and swabbing it over Sam's sauce covered face. "I knew that," Sam says once Dean's done.

"Out," replies Dean to his earlier question as he grabs himself a plate and snatches the utensil from Sam's hand.

"Out? But, Dad says that we can't go out when he's not here," Sam says and you'd think that the kid did everything the man told him to do.

"Not like he let's us out even if he _is _here, Sammy."

They're both sitting at the table now. Dean's eating, but Sam's just watching him with a kind of awe.

"What?" Dean says, meatball on his fork coming towards his mouth.

"Where you going?"

"Party. Natalie Sands called me and told me to come over. She has, like the biggest parties."

"Wait, so you're going to this party to get like drunk or something."

"God, Sammy. Look, I don't need a party to get trashed. I have A fake ID for that."

"Ok, fine. That's true enough. Though, Dad gave you that so that you could get yourself out of trouble not into it."

"What he doesn't know," Dean says placing another mouthful in. Sam nods and begins to eat again. _What Dad doesn't know can't hurt them._

"And what am I 'posed to do?" Dean looks at him for a second, considers this. "I'm _not_ going with you." Adds Sam quickly.

"No duh," Dean says with a roll of his eyes. Sure, he's taken the squirt to parties before, but only when it was really necessary since the kid seemed latched a corner at most occasions. "How about that friend of yours, Richey."

"What about him?"

"Well, you wanna go over to his place for a few hours?"

"Really?" Sam said looking up from where he was waging war with a meatball, which was winning. It was rare for them to go over anyone's house, and when they did it usually wasn't for fun. Dad never, not ever, let them go over other kid's houses. When Dad wasn't around however, which was increasingly becoming more and more common, Dean would let him go spend the afternoon at one of his friends house or even let a few come over.

"Yeah, if you want to. I mean, I'd tell you to call him over, but can't really leave you guys unchaperoned like that now can I?"

"Cool, I'll call him," Sam said, leaving his plate and rushing over to the phone.

It was only around five now, and there was a great possibility that Dean would stay at the party for quite some hours. Nat had mentioned that her father and stepmother had left to go to someone's bridal shower and bachelor party until Sunday and she was planning on throwing a whole bunch of parties. They seemed to go out of town a lot, so Nat was well known for her parties. People were known to spend entire weeks at one of these, but Dean wouldn't do that to Sammy. He did, however, plan to go to a few of these before their father got back.

Richey's mom said ok and then Sam headed off to shower, he had managed to get an awful lot of sauce on him. Dean teased him about needed a bib next time or would he have to start feeding him again as he emerged from the bathroom and rushed off to get dressed. Ten minutes later, both Winchesters were ready and heading out. The excess meal was stored away for later eating in the fridge and the mess around the kitchen grew.

"Dean, we've _got_ to clean that soon," Sam said as he placed his plate on top of the breakfast plates and pans.

"Yeah, um tomorrow," Dean said as he put on his jacket. "Grab your books, help Richey out with his homework and do your own. I'll probably pick you up around nine, okay." Sammy nodded as he tossed his books back into his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. Dean really didn't want to be done with the party so soon, but he wouldn't want to burden Mrs. Landis for too long. And besides, Sam had a bedtime to maintain and if Dad called again to check in and he missed it, well they'd be toast.

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**So, continuing on with their normal lives, will throw in a conflict in the next chapter, but it'll be a normal one. Plz review:D **


	5. You Know I’m Here For The Party

Beautiful Innocence

By: chocolate rules

A/N: Well, lookie here, look who's updating:D Hehe. Well, I had this chapter outlined, then I lost the outline...and that sucked. I think that I might have screwed up on some of the boy's parts here, related to the rest of the story, not the characters themselves, since I didn't reread my story like I sometimes do to make sure that I keep everything related. I know that in this one I make Sam to be more popular than I had him sound in the previous chapters, but I don't know, my muse brought me here.

Next two chapters will tie this in, normal I mean, and start bring in the surreal. Until then, Enjoy!

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Chapter 5: You Know I'm Here For The Party

* * *

Dean parked on the street in front of Natalie Sands' house. It was already filled with teenagers walking in and out of the house and loud music. 

Dean entered the three-floored mansion and within instances was offered a beer. He would have been happy to accept it, but there was no way that he was going to drink and then drive his baby anywhere.

He found Natalie on the back porch sitting on the banister, surrounded by her daytime school posse. Making his way over to her, she glanced up and saw his arrival.

"Hey," Dean smirked out. Nat eyed him for a second before taking a sip of her own drink, which though it was in a red plastic cp Dean could swear would be beer.

"Hey, you made it!"

"Said I would," Dean shrugged.

"A man of his word. Ladies we better watch out." The group giggled as Nat jumped down and reached over grabbing Dean's arm. She tugged him away from the group and into the house once more.

It was hard to say where there were more people, inside or outside. Since the majority kept going in and out constantly it was fairly balanced. The chaos by the pool was so out of a teen flick that Dean felt like drowning each and every one of them, a few friends included. The braking of a few glass and porcelain items could contest that the interior remodeling would win the debate.

As they maneuvered through the house, greeting people and ducking from the flying _corndogs?_ They ended up on the bottom of a flight of stairs. A few lovebirds were necking on the stairs, nothing Dean hadn't witnessed at well every party he'd ever been at. Nat started tugging him up the stairs and Dean looked at her questioningly.

"What?"

"You're bringing me upstairs?" he asked with a curious expression.

"You don't want to go?" Nat asked as took a step down, meeting his eyelevel and placing a hand on the back of his neck. She pulled him in for a kiss.

Though momentarily caught by surprise, Dean was not Dean if he didn't reply and complete gain control over her wondering mouth. Once they parted panting, Dean smirk up at her.

"Just making sure, babe." He said with a wink.

Nat grabbed his hands and started pulling him once more up the stairs. This time, Dean followed.

* * *

Sam sat in Richey's bed as he watched Joey performing tricks. Joey was of course Richey's dog and he was 'so cool'. Joey could jump and sit and beg and catch and Sam decided that he wanted one too. 

Richey's mom called to them if they wanted Mac and Cheese or Sandwiches for dinner. Wow, choices.

The boys raced each other down the hall and Sam won. He's fast, but he's pretty sure that Richey let him get that far ahead.

"So, here's the Mac and Cheese!" Mrs. Landis says as she places the bowls on the island. The boys climb onto the stools there and begin to chow down, talking with their mouths full of course.

"Joey's _sooo_ cool!" comments Sam as some cheese drops onto his chin.

"Yeah, I love him!" Richey says, and his face is in no better condition. For twelve year old boys, they eat like they're five.

Mrs. Landis smiled at them as she retrieved some paper napkins and placed a handful in front of the boys.

"Just make sure that most of it makes it to your mouths." She says smiling at them.

The boys look at each other and start to laugh.

"Yes Mom!" Richey's calls out as she leaves them to eat.

"Thanks Mrs. Landis!" Sam calls out at the same time.

Mrs. Landis stands on the door frame as she watches her son and his best friend interact. Though Sam had recently moved here, he instantly clicked with a lot of the kids in their class. She remembered how Richey had commented that the new kid was so cool and so smart that everyone really liked him.

She marveled at how confident her timid and fragile son was around this new kid. With Richey's in and out of hospitals all his life, the kids had been almost afraid that they would catch whatever was wrong with him. That had been when Richey was in the third grade and since then the kids hadn't changed their minds about him.

And yet, Sam Winchester strolled in just a few months ago and though Richey had told her that the other kids had warned him against befriending, or even talking, to Richey he just laughed and commented that if it got biohazard he'd be the first to bail.

"Mom! Where's the grape soda?" she heard Richey call out.

"Grape soda?" she heard Sam ask her son as she reentered the room.

"Yeah, so?" Richey shrugged, but she could tell that Richey was worried that Sam might not approve of this.

Sam started to laugh and shook his head.

"Dude, you're worst than my brother! I mean, its Mac and _Cheese_ with _grape_ soda?" Richey laughed too and she poured him a cup.

Soon after, once the boys had washed themselves off and cleared their plates, she called her other children to eat and ushered the youngsters back to Richey's room.

"So, how come you needed to come today?" Richey asked as they started, finally, on their homework.

"My brother went to a party," Sam said as he worked though his math again. He hated math. He did everything he could to not have to do it. He had more fun doing Dean's. Dean's math and English were way easier than his. All Dean got were word problems and book reviews. In return, Dean usually did his history and Science homework, though he rarely chose to do his own.

"A party?" Richey asked looking up to his friend. Richey didn't get to go to many parties. As far as he knew, most parties were on the weekends. His older brother and sisters always went to the ones on the weekends.

"Yeah," Sam replied as he frowned at one particularly hard problem. He decided that he was so going to get the address to whoever the hell wrote the damn textbook and kick his ass!

"Oh," Richey said with a curious frown and looked back at his work. "That's cool. What kind of party?"

"I dunno. Some high school party, I guess. Some girl called and invited him."

"He's at one of Natalie Sands' parties?" Richey asked with awe. Every eighth grader was looking forward to them since they'd heard about them in the sixth grade.

"I guess. He said, 'Hey Nat!' so it could be her. I dunno."

"That's _soo_ cool!" Richey said with awe. Sam looked up and saw a glazed kind of dreamy look on his friends' face.

"Um, dude, you okay?"

"Nat actually invited your brother?"

"Uhm, yeah, she called him." Sam replied. He couldn't see what the big deal was. Girls were always calling Dean, no matter where they moved. It pissed Dad off to have all those girls calling wherever they were and Dean was always having to run to the phone before John said something to them. His brother assured him that once he got over his whiny faze and hit puberty, girls would be all over him too, not that he was hoping or anything.

"Sam, only like the _elite_ get called by Natalie Sands to go to her parties!"

"Oh, okay." Sam said. Sam knew that Richey idolized everyone that was popular, something that he was sure he'd never be. Sam was relatively popular since everyone got along with him, well except Josh and his posse. He was really quiet most of the time but he got the best marks and so everyone was into getting some answers or help from him. For the most part, Sam liked that, but it just made kids like Josh and Roger more pissed at him.

"You're brother's pretty popular?"

"Yeah," Sam said with a chuckle. That was an understatement, but hey, Richey didn't need to know that.

"Think that he'll like watch out for you and like, your friends next year?" Richey asked unsure.

Sam looked back at him. Next year? He wasn't even sure that they'd be there next month! Sure, they'd been there for a while and their father was spending more and more time away from them and into the hunts that he hadn't even brought any of that up.

"Yeah," Sam said honestly and smiled his own patented charmer. "I mean, if we're still here next year, Dean would totally look out for us."

"Hey, I heard about today man. That sucks, Josh is such a bully." Richey said.

"Dean says that Josh is an ass sucking prick." Sam says with a smirk, something he's picking up from his brother.

Richey starts laughing really hard. Sam joins him and somehow they end up trying to tackle each other for the TV remote with pillows. Richey really liked it that Sam didn't mind his leg braces.

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**Hope you liked it :-D PLESE READ AND REVIEW!**


	6. Minor Notice

Beautiful Innocence

By: chocolate rules

**OMG! Look what's getting updated:-O I know, I know, this has taken forever. But...what can I say, it's here now:D**

Chapter 6: Minor Notice

It was difficult to see in the darkened room, so Dean found himself slightly surprised when he was pushed onto a mattress. Only slightly, because what else would they be here looking for?

Nat maneuvered herself up his body and Dean was sure he was in some sort of heaven. As she met his lips in a mind-blowing rhythm of lips and tongues and he's in a buzzing bliss…

"Oh, shit," Nat said as she broke the kiss.

Nat got up from the bed and went over to the lights. It was then that Dean noticed he was shirtless and she had been working on his pants and who the _hell_ would call in the middle of that!

Nat picked up her cell and pressed the call button to answer it without looking at who it was that was calling.

Dean leaned up on his elbows and watched her as he listened to the one-sided conversation.

"Hello," she grumbled into the cell. She was standing with her hand on her hip, smacking her gum, in just her bra and skirt. At the sound of the caller's voice, she instantly stopped with the gum.

"Eddie?" she asked. Apparently, it was this guy Eddie, and by the pale color crossing her face, that was not good. Dean sat up on the bed and watched as Nat began to pace.

"What do you mean you're coming home for the weekend? I thought that you didn't let out until the end of the month? ... What about finals or midterms or whatever… Well, that's great, Eddie…No, they're gone for the weekend… Sure, I guess there's a lot we could do…Why would I do something like that?"

Nat sat besides Dean and the conversation went on for a few more minutes. Nat kept changing moods, from happy to tense, and Dean kept wondering if he should wait for her to finish or grab his shirt, shoes and split.

Once there was a few minutes where Nat didn't say anything, Dean took it as notice that she was on hold more or less and began kissing her neck and down her back.

Natalie groaned, but not a happy groan.

"What?"

"I can't _believe _this!" she said with a heavy sigh.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Everything!" but before she got to elaborate, whoever Eddie was started to talk. "Huh…yeah, I'm still here…So, you're coming home _early_…NO! I think that's great. 'specially if you brought me something…Sure, Ed, I'm gonna love to see you again too…You're _what?_...Well, that's…great!...Yeah, see ya."

Nat flipped her cell shut and sat there silent for a few seconds. Dean, not knowing what the hell was going on, started to get up decided that maybe she really couldn't handle _this_ right now. And if he moved fast enough, he could possibly still get lucky tonight.

As he reached over for his shirt, Nat started to speak from behind him.

"He's coming over."

"Who is?" Dean asked, pulling the shirt over his head.

"Eddie, my brother from college." And now Dean was frozen, hands still on the hem of his shirt.

"Your brother from college Eddie," Dean repeated, more for his own awareness than for the confirmation.

"Yeah, he's like two hours away. If he finds out about this party, I'm dead!" Suddenly, she jumped up. "Oh my God, Dean! I have to get everyone out of here! If Eddie sees this, he'll tell my parents. Then, they'll send me to a _boarding_ _school_ or something!"

Dean was nodding along before he even knew that he was. All he knew was that if he was this Eddie guy, and he had walked into the room, Dean would be a very, very dead man right now.

"Okay, let's get rid of everyone." Dean said. They rushed out the room yelling for everyone to leave. Some people actually left immmedialty, but of course the majority of them ignored them.

Nat went over to some of her closer friends and quickly told them that her brother was coming home and that they were close to being _busted_. Soon afterwards, everyone was gathering their bags and leaving.

Fifteen minutes later, the house was free of people and Dean was wondering how the hell he got coaxed into staying to help with the cleanup.

Break Break Break

Sam and Richey were munching on the cookies that Mrs. Landis had just brought in for them as they tried to do their math homework. Luckily for Sam, his best friend happened to be really good at the one subject that he could never seem to grasp his head around.

"I don't know how you get this stuff," Sam commented as Richey showed him how to do the fourth question out of the twenty they've got for the night.

"I dunno it's really simple. I mean, Mr. Long said to work with the order of operations and that they would help simplified they equation enough to solve, and it does."

"Yeah, that's all gibberish to me." Sam said with a shrug.

"I thought that you were really good in school. You do well in Math, right?"

"Well, yeah, but that's cause Dean actually gets math, even if he refuses to do his."

"Well, how would Dean show you to do it?" Sam shrugged. "Bet you don't make it too easy on him," Richey said smirking, something he's picking up from Sam.

"You bet!" Sam reassured him. He does however try harder to listen as Richey talks him through 4 and all the way up to 12 before he actually gets the concept. "Oh! _That's it?_" Richey nodded. "Well, _that's _simple!"

"Told ya it was!"

Soon, Richey and Sammy are both done all of their work, each helping the other out. They've moved on to the comic books that Richey had in a box under his bed.

After about three comics, the boys encounter a book that is so far away from being a comic that they're both stunned.

Sam reached for the magazine slowly. Once his fingers grasp it, he pulled it out of the box even slower. Sam dropped the magazine onto his lap and eyes it nervously.

"Dude, is this…"

"Yeah." Richey said looking at it oddly as well from where it remains on Sam's jeanclad lap. "I…I forgot that was there."

"You _have_ one of these?" Sam asked looking up to his friend in disbelieving awe.

"My brother gave it to me a while ago."

"Mark gave you _this_?" Sam asked pointing to it but refusing to touch it again. Richey nodded again. "Wow, that's so cool." Sam thought. "Dean would _never_ give me something like this. Heck, I can't even go near his."

Sam had actually encountered his brother's 'magazines' a few months ago. He had actually gone through a few pages before Dean walked back into his room. Dean grabbed it from his hands, told him he was way too young and shoved him all the back into his room before going back to his. He warned him about not looking for the magazines again but did and sounded kind of mad at him, but he still helped him with his homework, so Sam knew that he wasn't really upset.

"Mark said that it was time I started doing things that kids my age did. Do kids our age really look at this?" Sam shrugged again.

"Did you… I mean, have you…"

"Nah, I couldn't look at it. It was weird. Plus, I don't want to think about that too much just yet."

"So, we should just put it back," Sam said. Richey nodded his accordance but neither boy moved to do so.

"Let's just _glance_ through it." Richey said, causing Sam to bit his lip. "What?"

"Dean said that I couldn't"

"Oh, well, I guess we shouldn't then."

"But, then, he's not here. And maybe he meant, like to not look at _his_. Right?" The boys held eye contact, both wondering if that was a plausible excuse.

"Yeah, probably."

Richey picked up the magazine and they started flipping through the dirty mag.

As they turned to the third page, their was a knock at the door.

"Aaaaahhh!" Both boys yelled. Sam, who was sitting closer to the edge, fell onto the floor while Richey and the magazine went flying onto the bed.

The door was opened to reveal a very startled Mrs. Landis standing besides a very amused Dean Winchester.

"You boys okay?" Mrs. Landis asked looking to both boys and keeping her eyes on the form of her son on the bed.

"Yeah, Mom," Richey said starting himself up and stuffing the magazine out of view behind him.

Mrs. Landis let out a low sigh and smiled. "You boys be careful," she softly scolded. Both boys nodded. "Sam, your brother's here to pick you up." She smiled at the and then left the room.

Dean stood by the door, skeptical, laughing eyes watching the two. Richey felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze. Dean was a lot taller and stronger than him. Even Richey's brother, Mark, who was relatively tall, did not hold up against Dean's build.

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's poise, all too familiar with the 'you were doing something that you shouldn't have been doing, weren't you?' look. He pushed himself off the floor and unnecessarily brushed his pants off.

"What were you two up to?" Dean said with a smirk.

"Nothin'," Sam said. "What are you doing here so early?"

"Dude, you have to let these kind people rest you know. With the kind of racket your causing."

"Yeah, right," Sam said rolling his eyes again.

"Do I even want to know?" he said eyeing them both. Both boys shook their head no.

"Well then, let's go, kiddo," Dean said as he headed towards the door.

Sam went to get his books, shoved them back into his bag and dragged it to the door. Richey watched Dean, who was oblivious of the staring. Dean was just like Richey wished to be one day. He was strong and tall and popular. Richey knew that he'd be dead before Natalie Sands or anyone ever called him and invited him to a party. Even a party that parents world be aware of.

There's just something about going to an unchapareoned, drinking party-even if you're not planning on doing anything- that makes you a _real_ teenager.

Something that Richey was sure he'd never get to be.

"Well, see ya tomorrow, Richey," Sam said as he waved from his door.

"Hey, Sam!" Richey said, causing him to turn back around. "What are you doing this weekend?"

"I dunno,. What aree we doing this weekend?" he asked up to his brother.

"Don't care," responded Dean with a shrug. It always depended on what he was in the mood to do and whether or not Dad was home.

"Oh," Richey said, his hope crushed.

"Well, whatever we're doing, I'm sure you can come," Sam said, reading his friend's face and pleading to Dean with his own.

"Yeah, whatever." Dean said rolling his eyes at his brother. Then, Dean turned back and looked over to the kid. Richey's face had lit up at the thought, and Dean not being one to really like crushing a kid's hope-blame Sammy- smiled at the kid.

"You can come Richey, as long as it's okay with your Mom and whatever we're doing ain't too…crazy."

"Dean, Richey can do anything just like I can," Sam said defensive.

"That's not what I was saying, dipshit. You know the kid of crap I pull. I meant if it's not something _crazy_. Like, jail crazy or something."

"OH," Sam said. He smiled back to his friend. "Sorry."

"I can really come? Thanks!"

"No problem," Dean said with a shrug. "Now, come on, before we get in trouble." He grabbed at Sam's bag strap and pulled him out the room.

Sam called out a 'Later!' to his friend and Richey heard the sure sound of his front door opening and slamming shut.

**So, yeah, Dean didn't get any, got stuck helping Nat clean up after the drunkies, and had to go home early. Not his best of days :-P Sammy, on the other hand, got his eyes on a Playboy. Who got the most action in this chapter? LoL. Don't worry, Sam's Playboy days are over (much to his dismay). I just wanted to chip away some of his innocence. It's kind of the point of this fic :D**

**And aren't they just the _cutest_ to let Richey tag along!**

_Next chapter,_ Random Interfernce


	7. Random Interference

Beautiful Innocence

By: chocolate rules

**OMG, she does live:D (AKA an update!)**

Chapter 7: Random Interference

* * *

While driving back home, Sam kept talking a mile a minute about nothing. Dean wondered if the kid would ever get over this stage and become, I don't, _silent_. What ever happened to the 'not a kid, but not a teen' angst that he was supposed to be feeling at this age? 

But, in truth, Dean wouldn't take the kid any other way. If Sammy ever turned, dare he say quiet?, then he knew that there was trouble.

They arrived home and Dean groggily got out of the car. He had expected his night to go so much more different, so much _better_ than what it had. He had expected to have _fun_ and get _lucky_. He had had neither. Well, he had started out having fun and that had lasted all of what, ten minutes? Who ends the night cleaning up after a party anyway? _Ahhh_.

Sam trudged into his room and dumped off his bag by the desk. He was having a pretty decent day, it wasn't everyday that he was allowed to go over to a friend's house. Or anywhere really.

The boys spent the next hour or so trying to find something good to watch on TV. As per par, nothing good was on. They spent more time arguing then anything else. Before they got into a full on fight, Dean sent Sam to get ready for bed. Sam groaned, but seeing as how Dean had just let him go to chill at Richey's he headed to his room with no further retort.

Dean went around the house, checked over all the locks and salt lines. After placing some salt on the lines that had been disturbed during the day, Dean headed to his own room to ready for bed.

Dean got out of his shirt, for the second time that night, and his jeans. He tugged on fresh boxers and headed to the bathroom.

Living with just your kid brother and father, dean had no problem walking in and out of rooms not knocking. Actually, he rarely, if ever knocked to enter a room. The way he saw it, if there was a reason for him to be in there then he didn't need to be knocking.

So, Dean ignored the partially shut bathroom door as he stepped in and went to brush his teeth.

Sam was checking himself over, determined to find something that would prove to the elder members of his family that he was in deed not a baby anymore. He'd been checking himself over for the last month or so, and had yet to find anything.

"Give it up, Sammy," Dean said shaking his head. Sam glared at him through the mirror. "You're not going to find any chest hair at twelve. It just doesn't happen." Dean grabbed his toothbrush and set Sammy's besides the kid. "Or a beard for that matter. You do realize that that's not the first place you're gonna get hair right?"

Sam turns to glare at him this time. Dean's grinning around the green brush sticking out of his mouth. He lets out a soft growl and then picks up the toothbrush for himself.

A few minutes later and they're saying goodnight and each head to their respective bedroom.

* * *

The night is still. The skies are clear and the stars are bright. It's a perfect night.

Or so it should seem.

Sam shifted again in his sleep. He hated having dreams that had people dying or hurt in them. They always felt so real and had him waking up in a cold sweat. He's dreaming about a man and the man's being beaten by these three guys until he's unconscious. Sam can hear himself calling out to them, telling them to stop. Of course, they never listen.

Sam shits again and now finds himself in an empty subway. He can read the digital clock stating that it's one twenty in the morning. There's another man standing there, seemingly waiting for his train. He's rather young, in his twenties at most, and rather slim looking. Sam oddly thinks that if he were in a fight, the poor guy would most likely lose. Suddenly, three guys come out of nowhere and choke hold the guy. Sam moans, and just as he's predicted, the guy can't put up much of a fight. They leave him there, a motionless heap on the ground. They take nothing from him and leave like nothing ever happened as the train pulls up to its landing.

Again, Sam shifts in his sleep. His pajama top is clinging to his chest from the perspiration. A lady was brutalized as she took out her shoppings from her cart to her trunk. She's left hanging from the back of her SUV. Three dark figures progress unnoticed back into the shadows.

Sam flips onto his belly. He stuffs his face into a pillow and sighs.

His dream shifts again and there's two teenage girls by a mini-mart parking lot. They're leaning on an old truck, just chatting away. There's a slight rustling that they don't seem to hear. His view gets blurred this time and he can only make out the ruffling of colors blending in with the darkness of night. Suddenly, everything's still. The three dark figures back away from the motionless bodies of the girls. Unlike the others he's just seen, he can tell that these haven't made it.

The assaultants have progressed. They've become murders.

He cannot make out their features in the first few dreams. He can't even recall that he's had these types of string dreams before. That he's seen these criminals. Not until tonight.

The three dark figures backed away from the girls' bodies. They seemed uncaring and unfazed by the attack. Sam watched as they neared him. The first, most likely the leader passed besides him to his right. Next one passed at his left. The third figure held back, he watched the area and Sam figured he was the scouter, assuring the others that they weren't followed or seen. He then saw the figure sigh wordlessly and head right towards him. Mere inches from his own face, Sam cringing away hoping for the dream to end, the figures eyes' came into light and then the entire form was noticeable.

Sam gasped as he was flipped around and watched as the last man caught up with the first two. No longer were they dark figures, he could see them now. And he knew who they were….he just couldn't believe it.

* * *

Sam awoke with a gasp.

He looked around and was so thankful to be back in his own room. Sure enough, he was sitting in his own sweat and his pajamas were sticking to him.

Sam rose from his bed, peeling off his damp top and tossing it to the floor, where the rest of his dirty clothes lied from early in the day. He walked over to his dresser and then grabbed the first shirt his hand came into contact with and pulled it on over his head. Doing the same for his PJ bottoms, Sam headed back over to his bed with ever intent to go back to sleep.

His bed was wet with his sweat as well and Sam couldn't sleep like that. He rose once more from the bed and thought about going to get new sheets for his bed. What he really wanted to do was rush into Dean's room and take comfort in the stronger arms, but he was twelve years old, not a baby.

And yet, as he slowly pulled the door open, he had ever intent to do just that.

As he closed the door behind him, out of habit, Sam was snapped into alertness from a noise in the kitchen.

Slowly and trembling with fear, Sam turned toward the kitchen. There was no light coming from beneath the swinging door.

Sam held his breath and fisted his hands. He was aware that not only did he have no weapon on him, but he had no weapons in his room.

Once more, a soft rustling came from the kitchen and Sam waited, hoping that his light sleeper of a brother would rush out of his room and save him. Or bring him a weapon. Ultimately, both things would make him feel safer.

But Dean didn't show.

However, along the same line of thinking that had previously brought him into the hall, Sam knew that unlike himself Dean's room held many weapons. Where as Sam's room was filled with books, dictionaries and encyclopedias, Dean's had weapons, car and gun magazines and a few playboys.

* * *

In no time at all, Sam was in his big brother's room and rushing to Dean's bedside.

"Dean," he whispered pulling off the sheets up to Dean's waist. Dean slept on his stomach and moaned his face into his pillow. "_Dean!_ I heard something. Come on, man."

That did wake the elder brother up.

"What?" he asked as he twisted into sitting and looked over to Sam.

"There's something in the kitchen, I _heard_ it."

Dean looked over to his closed door and back to evaluate his kid brother.

"You okay?" He asked as he stood up. He saw Sammy nod and made his way over to his dresser. From the top drawer, he pulled out a .45 Colt, checked that it was loaded and handed it over to Sam.

Grasping his hand around the familiar form, Sam watched as his brother grabbed a .22 Long Rifle from besides the dresser and led them towards the kitchen.

As they neared the kitchen door, Dean held his arm out, effectively stopping Sam in his tracks.

"Stay here, I'll handle this. Don't come in no matter what," he ordered. Sam nodded, eyes never leaving the swinging door.

Dean took a breath and stepped forward. He held up his .22 and aimed it ahead of him. Almost at the door, Dean stilled as a soft moaning emits from it.

Dean took a deep breath, willing himself not to panic. The moan had sounded way too human.

Behind him, Sam held his breath as he watched his brother enter the dark room.

Dean silently fumbled for the light switch to his left as he lined his aim to the figure outlined by the moonlight coming in from the window.

Switching the light on, Dean yelled, "Alright, freeze!"

Surprised out of his activities, the figure flips around surprised to have a gun pointed at his face.

"Watch it, kiddo." Dean hears a familiar growl say. Blinking out of his fright, he's surprised enough to question the sight.

"Dad?"

**So, it appears that things are a little shaky in the Winchester household. What could this appearance mean? And do Sammy's nightmares play out anything?...**

**And, if anyone can recall back to chapter 3 or 4 where I mentioned about the supernatural taking affect after a certain chapter title, I think you'll be most pleased.**

_Next Chapter_: Daddy Dearest


	8. Daddy Dearest

Beautiful Innocence 

By: chocolate rules

**Still here! And this chapter is just cute:D But, I need the cute before the storm. Remember, I call this BEAUTIFUL INNOCENCE which means that I usually make Sam out to be slsighlty younger than his age. Like this chapter for instance, def. acts younger than his 12 yrs. But, the events kindof allow that. Blah, Blah, Blah Enjoy the chapter!**

Chapter 8: Daddy Dearest

* * *

_Dean silently fumbled for the light switch to his left as he lined his aim to the figure outlined by the moonlight coming in from the window. _

_Switching the light on, Dean yelled, "Alright, freeze!" _

_Surprised out of his activities, the figure flips around surprised to have a gun pointed at his face. _

_"Watch it, kiddo." Dean hears a familiar growl say. Blinking out of his fright, he's surprised enough to question the sight. _

_"Dad?" _

"Yeah, kiddo, mind putting down the .22?" Dean did as asked and looked his Dad over.

John was standing in front of the sink. He had his shirt balled on the counter besides him. The once light gray shirt was now caked with blood.

Across his chest were three deep slashes, still omitting some blood. Seeing Dean's focus on the marks, John turns back around and continues to use the towel he was using to wipe away the blood before going into the bathroom and fixing himself up.

"It's nothing, kiddo," he whispered. "Just a few scratches. Mean old demon."

"Dad?"

"It's alright, Dean. Go back to bed."

John can hear Dean's soft breathing as he shifted around where he stood.

"'M gonna get the kit."

John sighed as he turned around, intent on telling his eldest to forget it and just go to bed. Instead, as Dean reached the swinging door, in come Sammy.

Dean, having forgotten that the kid was still waiting in the hall almost let the kid slip by him. Before he can reach their dad, Dean wrapped an arm around the little one's waist.

"Daddy?" came Sam's little voice in light of the bloody scratches.

"It's okay, Sammy." John said softly. He expected the kid to be mad with him, like he was every other time that he left without saying goodbye. He hadn't expected him to be awake at 2am and seeing him dripping in blood.

"You're hurt." Sam clarified, voiding the reassurance.

"Dad's gonna be just fine, Sammy. Just get back to bed and then I'll fix him right up."

"I'll be fine, kiddo. You boys can both head back to bed now. We'll talk in the morning."

"I'm getting you the kit. They need stitching, Dad. And you can't do that yourself." Dean's defiant gaze told him that was exactly what was going to happen and there was no way that he was going to back down.

"I'mma help too," added Sam as he wriggled out from beneath Dean's arm. He took a few steps towards his dad, eyes shifting from the cuts up to meet his Dad's gaze.

"No, you're going back to bed. It's really late, and you have school in the morning." John told him sternly. He looked up over to Dean as well. "The both of you."

Both sons ignored him as Dean shook his head and headed out the kitchen once again and went to get the kit. Sam, in turn, reached his dad's side and looked sympathetically at the cuts.

"Hurts," he said as he looked up to his dad's green eyes. "Don't it?"

"Its fine, kiddo," responded John, even though the cuts hurt like the devil.

"Dean's good at stitches. You'll be just fine." Sam reassured him.

John shook his head; this kid was getting harder to comprehend everyday.

"I know Sammy, thank you. I taught your brother. And you're right. I'll be just fine. So, you see, there's no need to stay around. You can head to bed."

Before he even finished talking, Sam's shaking his head no.

"I wanna stay here with you," he pleaded.

Before he can tell him to do otherwise, Dean returned with the kit.

"Hey, Sammy. Get me some rags and water to clean them up," ordered Dean as he set the kit on the kitchen table.

Dean looked over at John expectantly. With a soft breath, John pushed himself of the sink and over to the table. Dean was already pulling out some pain tabs and handed them over to him as he sat down at the table.

John dry swallowed the pills and watched, pleased, as Dean got out the materials he'd need to take care of the scratches.

Sam returned with a small bowl of water and a few rags. He handed them over to Dean and then turned back to John.

"What happened?" he asked softly. John started to shake his head, but Dean beat him to the punch.

"Not today, Sammy. It's not the time for that. Let's just fix him up so he can rest, 'kay?"

Sam looked up to met Dean's warning gaze and nodded. He looked back to his dad and grimaced.

"Daddy, they look bad," he comments softly.

"Nothing I can't handle, kiddo," winked John Sam didn't look too reassured, but the tenseness in his shoulders relaxed over some.

"Yeah, scars make the man, right Dad?" Dean said winking his own to him.

"That's right." He nodded to his eldest. "Long as you win," he added as he reached over slightly and ruffled Sammy's floppy mess that he called hair.

Dean worked quickly and carefully as he cleaned the cuts and made certain that they hadn't suffered any infection. As he used tweezers to pry off stands of the gray shirt, Sam made his way closer to John. By the time that Dean finished applying some antibiotic cream and was ready to start stitching; Sam was leaning on John's shoulder, small arms wrapped around his neck.

John wrapped an arm around the kid's head and kissed his hair before releasing him. Taking the forgiveness as it was, John didn't want to do anything other than wrap the kid in a hug, but he didn't want to stretch the cuts any further.

Dean made slow work of the needle, but each point was precise and John was pretty sure that it'd be damn hard to break those stitches. Sensing himself that the cuts were in no way life threatening – otherwise he'd have hightailed it to a hospital, explanation pending – John was reassured by his son's technique. He had started teaching his youngest the finer points of a first aid kit, but Sam wasn't as quick to learn it as Dean. Where Dean was a visual, hands-on learner, Sam needed method, reasoning and words to understand. All things he'd learned about while he thought about becoming a Marine instructor and watching as Mary made progress in her classes.

An hour later and he was stitched, bandaged, and cleaned as he reassured a sleepy Sam that everything would be fine in the morning.

"Can I sleep with you?" Sam asked as he hoped off his Dad's lap from where they sat on the sofa.

Taken aback by the request, one he hadn't heard in months, John almost forgot to answer.

"Naw, Sammy," Dean answered instead. "Dad needs his rest if he's going to be fine in the morning. He doesn't need you kicking and smacking him all through the night," he teased his brother.

Sam rolled his eyes. Granted, from sleeping with both men, he had been woken up on numerous occasions and told to calm down and dream happier things, he still didn't need to be reminded of it.

John shook his head and gave Dean a 'warning' look that was countered by his smirk. His youngest was one hell of a sleep-fighter. John wrapped his arm around Sammy, making him turn his attention back to him.

"Dean's right kiddo. I'm gonna need to rest. And, you're kind of a handful." Sam pouted and John was sure that this was all because the visual image that his dad could get hurt had really startled him.

"Maybe tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow sounds just fine," he said leaning forward and kissing his cheek good night.

Dean stood from the armchair and grabbed Sam by the arm, seeing as how it would take them forever to get him to go back to bed on a normal day. Sam turned towards their dad, however and with thought spoke.

"I'll sleep with Dean then, and you can have my bed. That okay?" He asked already moving ahead to get the new sheets that he had earlier intended to get and fix up his bed anew.

Both of the elder Winchesters shrugged. Dean helped John to standing and walked ahead of him to the rooms. They both paused at Sam's doorway as Sam tugged on the last cover.

"Wet the bed there kiddo?" teased Dean.

Sam flipped around and gave him an evil glare as John lightly smacked at his head.

"Oww, okay, sorry."

"No, you dick. I had a nightmare and sweated up a storm, if you hadta know."

"Sammy," John said disapproving to his youngest at the word choice. Sighing, instead he asked "You okay?"

Sam shrugged. Really, he wasn't all that okay. He hated the damn dreams: they were too visual and they freaked the heck out of him. But he didn't need to worry them.

"They were nothing, just dreams, right?" he tried to say coolly.

But he really wasn't all that great of a liar.

"Why don't we talk about them in the morning?" John said instead. He knew how hard the nightmares tolled on his youngest and also knew that it'd be better if he didn't keep them to himself.

John remembered when Dean had started helping him out in hunts, a little over ten years old. He had had many nightmares and John would wake up in the middle of the night to find the boy crawling into his bed, sniffling slightly. He'd pull back the covers and wrap his arms around Dean's trembling form. Ushering words of reassurance and safety he marveled at how he could make the kid secure and get him back to sleeping so efficiently.

"Okay," Sam said as he walked back to them. He didn't look too pleased at the notion, but knew it'd happened none the less.

He walked over to them and wrapped his arms tightly around John's waist. He softly rested his head on his chest, listening to the steady, rhythmic beating of his dad. John wrapped his arms once more around him, knowing how he knew with Dean, that the nightmares took toil on his young boys' minds.

"Night shortie," he teased as he ruffled Sam's brown hair. Sam groaned against him but didn't let him go.

"Night Daddy," Sam replied as he finally released him and tried to stifle a yawn.

Sharing a knowing look with his eldest, John leaning over and kissed Sam's forehead good night. Doing the same to Dean, which caused the boy to moan and slightly push him back, John watched as they both clambered into the other room.

Dean paused at the door and looked back at him.

"Did you get it?" he asked in a youthful voice. Wonder and worry filled his eyes.

"Heck yeah," grinned John. Dean nodded, grinning back.

"Cool. Night Dad."

"Night, big guy."

Next Morning:

Dean slowly aroused the next morning. He felt rather than saw Sammy sprawled out on most of the bed. Dean smiled at himself, Sam was more off the bed than on it and had it not bee for his tight grip on Dean's shirt, he would have landed face first on the floor.

Pulling him back onto the bed, Dean started to shake him awake.

"Sammy," he started shaking the younger boy's shoulder. "Sam, come on, you gotta wake up now." Nothing.

"Sam, it's time to get ready for school." A little drool, but nothing else. "Dude, _I'm_ the one that doesn't want to go. Fine, don't be whining later that you'll be late."

Sam was a hard sleeper, but now Dean saw a slight movement in him that told him the boy was awake, but pretending.

"Sam, don't be an ass now, just cause you're tired. I'm tired too you know."

Before Sam could reply, the door opened and their dad came in.

"Morning boys," he said softly. He looked rested, and alert.

Dean glanced up to him. John stood freshly showered in his jeans and a plain white tee.

"Morning Dad," Dean said glad to see that he was in fact not still hurt.

John walked over to the edge of the bed and peered down at his youngest.

"Boys sleep alright?"

"Enough," he replied with a shrug. John nodded and reached over to grab at the blankets now pooled up to Sam's chin. Sam had his head bent into the comforter and was pretending to not hear anything; not his dad and not his brother.

"Sam, I know you're awake kiddo. It's time to get up."

"Naw, I'm good," he muttered.

John pulled down comforter to Sam's waist and Dean's knees, since he was sitting up.

"Dad," whined Dean against the cold. He tried to get back under them, but John reached over and grabbed at Dean's arm.

"Go and get dressed," he told him. Dean rolled his head, but got up towards the bathroom anyway.

Sam, on the other hand pretended that the sheets being moved didn't bother him.

John pulled him into sitting and poked at his ribs slightly. Sam tried to twist away from the incursion, but his dad was pretty persistent.

And soon he was trying to stifle the giggles, but both his dad and Dean knew how ticklish he was and he didn't last long.

"Okay, okay, okay! I'm awake, I'm awake! Aaahh, Daddy stoop! I'm awake! Heehhee! I'm awake," Sammy tried to reason.

"You sure," teased John. Sam nodded urgently and John stopped. "Then you better get up and get dressed. You got ten minutes," he added as he pulled him to his feet.

"Can't I sleep for just five more minutes?" he asked, but John was already pushing him to the bathroom just as Dean was coming out.

"Morning sunshine," he teased to the grumpy guy being tossed to the awaiting head.

Fifteen minutes later both of the brothers were ready and walking towards the kitchen.

At the door, they could hear their father inside making breakfast. Before pushing their way in, Sam grabbed at Dean's arm.

"What?"

"We never got chance to clean, did we?" Sam asked biting his lower lip. Dean takes a moment before realizing what he's talking about.

"Crap, no we didn't," Dean said frowning. He glanced over to the door and then back at Sam. "No doubt he's noticed by now."

_We're so dead_, they both thought.

"Boys, get a move on!"

Both jumped at the voice and turned to the door.

"Ah, man," Sam softly muttered as he walked over to the door and pushed it open. Groaning and dragging his feet, Dean followed.

Sure enough, the kitchen looked like a poltergeist had attacked there.

Looking over at them from the stove, John knew what they were thinking.

"Yeah, not such a great sight, huh?"

"No sir," they both said. John nodded.

"Get to cleaning it while I finish these up." They headed over to the sink and started to clean up, mindful of the fresh waffles that their dad was making. One of the few things in the tiny list that John could not only make, but make really well.

Settling in to the breakfast presented to them, Dean and Sam were actually pretty happy to have their dad back.

John sat in front of them and looked them over. He was slightly worried over the bruising and cuts on Sammy's face. He didn't need to be quite as observant as he knew that he was to have noticed the lip and the cut in his cheek.

"Mind telling me what happened?" asked John using his fork to point to Sam's face.

Dean looked up and noting his dad's gaze looked over to Sam as well. And sure enough, the kid's face didn't look so good.

Yet another thing that they had forgotten about.

"It's nothing," muttered Sam not bothering to look up.

"Sam," John started in a warning tone causing Dean to flip his attention back to him. "I know like hell that when I left you didn't have bruises and cuts on your face. Tell me what happened."

Sam moved his head slightly up but didn't look further than above his waffle stack.

"Nothing," he repeated.

Dean watched as John shock his head, angered slightly but more concerned for his youngest.

"Didn't ask you what it was, I can see what it is. What I want to know is what happened to get it there, and I want to know now." Seeing how Sam just continued to push the remainder of his waffles pieces around, Dean decided to interfere.

"Dad, listen, it's nothing really. Just a little scuffle. I sorted everything out, it's nothing," Dean repeated. John turned tired eyes to him.

"Dean, can you please not cover for your brother. I can tell that it was something, because Sam doesn't just jump into fights. And it was a fight, not just a hit, because he's got more than just one bruise or one cut," turning back to Sam, he continued to talk, "And I for one would like to know what happened."

Sam did look up this time and over to his dad. He looked sad and pleading but didn't offer anything.

"Fine," sighed John, leaning back onto the chair. "Finish your breakfast and I'll drive you two to your classes while I head over to get some research done."

"Dad?"

"Dean, after how you left the kitchen, I don' think that I can let you have the car right now."

"Bu- why?" John gave him a look and Dean sighed grabbing his fork once more. "This sucks."

"I'll pick you both up as soon as your schools let out. And then, Sam, we _will _talk. Not only about what the heck happened to get you to fight," and then John looked back over to Dean again. When Dean looked up from his waffles, lip tinted with syrup he continued. "but also about how I called here for two hours to tell you both I was done with the hunt to find that no one was home."

"See, that, I can explain…."

"Don't bother, we'll talk about it later."

Opening his mouth to argue, but then figuring better of it Dean said instead, "Yes sir."

"Good, then let's get going," he said, grabbing his keys and leading the way to his truck.

"Told ya we shoulda cleaned it up," Sam growled as he grabbed his jacket and backpack from besides the door.

"Ugh, you're telling me. _No car?!_ I'm gonna die!" he whined as he grabbed his own jacket and began to drag his bag out the door.

**Don't forget to review:D**

**Next chapter: _Silence Speaks..._**


	9. Silence Speaks

Beautiful Innocence

By: chocolate rules

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**A/N: Wow, this was very well forgotten. Sorry!! Here's the next chapter:**

Chapter 9: Silence Speaks

* * *

John dropped the boys off at their schools and headed over to the library. He was glad that they were in fact doing alright and could focus his mind on finding the next case. He had actually thought that there was something coming his way and that didn't strike him as good.

At School:

Dean walked up to his locker to find Nat and all her friends standing by it. _Great_, he thought slowing his steps. He hadn't really thought about how he was supposed to respond to her, he knew what he'd do if they _had_ done something and he'd just act normal had they not tried anything, but stopping _just before_ that was new to him.

And this was officially way too much thinking for something that was second nature to him.

_Girls_.

Dean got into range and Nat saw him. Shifting into automatic, Dean strode over to his locker and waited for her to say her 'laters' and head over to him.

"Hey," she said, sliding in front of him, blocking him from his locker.

"Hey," he smirked.

"You were so _so_ awesome yesterday," she said, perking her lips for emphasis. Dean shrugged. Nat pouted. "You're not _mad_, are you? Cause I so didn't know about Eddie. I'm like, so totally embarrassed."

"Hey, it would've sucked more to get busted," Dean said truthfully. Fathers and brother scared him, that was just that.

_Thank God Sammy's a boy._

"So, not mad?" and she's all perky again.

"Nope," shit-eating grin.

"Great, cause he's gone by Wednesday, and my dad has a conference that weekend and mom _always_ goes with him. Something about him cheating on her when they first got married or whatever…" _And now she's talking. Damn, should've said I was mad._

Nat grabs at Dean's arm once she's let him get to his locker and then proceeds to walk him over to his Physics class.

Dean knows he's a catch, but this is just weird.

"Uh, Nat? I think I can handle this myself, alright. I'll catch up with you later," Dean said as he pried his arm out from her hands.

"Dean?" Nat asked unsure as she watched him get free.

"Lunch, right? By the football field? Later!" Dean practically ran, with grace of course, to his Physics class. He was by far _not_ easily manhandled.

* * *

Sam sat up listening to his science teacher explain the new lab experiment. They were going to make slime. It was so well _slimey_ and he couldn't wait to get his done. If they finished early, they could make more!

And then he could use some against Dean.

Sam finished up his slime and poured it out his cup into his hand. It felt soo cool and gooey. If he could get this into Dean's hair, Sam smiled evilly. Granted, Dean would retaliate and then the prank wars would be on again.

* * *

As promised, Dean met up with Nat by the football field. What she had not expected, however, was to see Jane Stern leading Dean over by the arm. She watched as Dean came up to her group, said hello to everyone, including her, and then just began talking like nothing had happened. To Nat's utter confusion, as they had arrived, Dean and Jane had split up and each had gone towards their own group.

Sam's lunch was oddly uneventful. Josh and his crew hadn't bothered him all day. Sam was sure that the bigger boy would save it all for lunch time. But nothing had happened. Sam felt them staring at him, but they didn't come after him. Maybe Dean's warning had actually served him some good. Sam sat with Richey and a few more of his friends. They didn't seem bothered that Josh's gang hadn't come after them, so why should he?

* * *

Josh watched as Sam sat and adamantly talked with his friends. He had figured that the freak would be scared about what he and his friends would do to him to make him pay for the day before. Frankly, he had hoped that the kid would be freaking paranoid enough to skip lunch altogether.

That had been the plan.

Ted saw the intense look on his friend's face. He didn't like it. Knowing Josh as well as he did, he knew what that look meant. Trouble.

"Fucking freak-" muttered Josh.

"J, just let it go," Ted said as he dipped a few fries into his ketchup.

Josh looked up to him. He glared at his friend for a second, not sure how to respond to him.

"Let it go? Teddy are you serious? You saw the fool that that freak's _brother_ made of me!"

Josh gritted his teeth around 'brother', hating that fact more than anything.

Ted repressed the need to roll his eyes.

"Josh, look, you're lucky that no one has asked Sam what happened to his face. He could've rated you out, man, and then what? You know how your father acts around accusations!"

"Rated _me_ out? Forgetting your part in this, Teddy? I go down, I'm taking you and Roge with me."

Ted scoffed.

"Roge? That freaking asshole left us, man!"

"Yeah, that's why that cowards gonna rot with us if we fall! But the freaks not gonna say nothing," stated Josh with confidence.

Confidence that Ted couldn't find means for.

"Dude, how the hell would you know that? If it had been you, you'd have had everyone out in the streets after screaming your ass off!"

"Me, sure, but Freak doesn't know that. He can't get to people like I can."

That was true and Ted knew it. No one really bothered with Josh, or consequently with any of his friends. Being a pastor son had allowed him leniency on everything. Ted couldn't figure why, but he loved reeling in the benefits.

But there was one thing that Josh was over looking. One thing that would surely backfire on them.

"Josh…" started Ted, as Josh started to once again devour his Sloppy-Joe.

"Whaa-"

"J, man, mostly _everyone_ likes Sam better than you."

* * *

John Winchester listed through a few newspapers in the library. He hated having to, but he needed to find a new hunt. He couldn't shake the feeling that had over come him during his last hunt. The reason that he had rushed the four hour drive down to barely two.

He had been relieved to see both of his sons fine.

Granted, he hadn't really noticed Sammy's face the previous night, having been to concentrated on his own pain, comforting his youngest and marveling under Dean's careful technique. The boy really had a way with the stitching. John wasn't sure whether it was because of his dedication on the boy or Dean's natural gentleness inherited down from Mary.

He hoped it was the latter.

Into his third article, glancing briefly at his notes, John Winchester froze. Something was not right.

"Shit," he whispered as he gathered up his journal and returned the papers that he didn't need. "Gotta call Jim."

* * *

Dean shifted his feet as he watched the cars and buses pull away. He hated waiting like this. Had hated it since the second grade when he had to wait an extra two hours after school to get picked up because Dad got injured and was in the hospital and Jefferson wasn't called until then.

He really hoped that his father would appear soon, or else he was going to start walking.

"Dean?"

Dean flipped around to see Nat coming up behind him. She was, as usual, walking around with two other girls (he didn't know their names, but he called them Blondie and Giggles in his head).

"Hey Nat!" Dean said cheerfully. He had been avoiding Nat most of the day, having kept to lunch with her and just lunch.

He really didn't know whether he was acting like that because of the scare last night of almost getting caught, or the fact that they didn't get to do anything but he really didn't want to hang out with her anymore.

And he was pretty used to this. He went through girls pretty quickly, and it wasn't a "get laid and leave 'em" deal either.

Mainly, Dean easily got bored.

Clingy was not only boring, but majorly annoying as well.

"Hey baby!" Nat said in reply.

_Baby?_

"I missed you today!" she continued as she threw her arms around him.

Dean gave her a lazy huge back.

"Well, I was around. Had shit to do, you know," Dean shrugged.

Nat grabbed his hand and then turned back to her awaiting duo.

"I'm going to stay with Dean, kay. So, laters!"

"Bye Nat!" said Giggles as she gave Nat a huge goodbye.

" ' Member Nat, turquoise," Blondie said seriously as she too leaned in for a hug.

Dean tried to shake his hand free.

"Of course, Mandy!"

And the duo left.

_Mandy Swartz_ thought Dean. He had a class with her, remembered the name during roll call. Mandy was so dramatic, would only figure that she and Nat would be friends.

Then again, Mandy had looked really good today in her tight dark red sweater.

_Maybe Mandy_.

"DEAN!"

Dean shook his head. He looked down into Nat's 'glare'.

"What?"

"Weren't you even listening?"

_Duh no!_

"Sure," Dean nodded nonchalantly. "So, um, how's that going?"

Nat perked up, apparently he had said the right thing? Girls, he really would never understand them.

"Well, Rachel doesn't think so, but like Mandy thinks that it'll look just awesome!"

_Awesome!_

"Maybe she's right," replied Dean with a nod.

_Who was right? What the hell is she talking about?! DAD!! Save your son!_

"Well, she better be! Or I'm gonna look like a complete doof!"

_Doof? What's a doof! Is that good? Nah, Dean, that sounds bad…_

"That would suck."

Nat laughed. Had he been funny?

"So, like what bout you?" she asked him, poking him slightly in the chest.

"Me?"

She started walking them towards the student parking lot. Dean stopped walking.

"Where you going?"

"Um, your _baby_," giggled Nat, referring to Dean's Impala.

Dean raised an eyebrow.

"She's not here."

"What? You _always _drive to school. What happened?"

Dean thought for a second that he should tell her that he was grounded because of her and wouldn't be allowed his precious car, but he really didn't want to hear her pity voice or her 'sad' tone.

"Just, left her home."

"So, like how are you gonna go home, baby?"

_There it is again!_

"My Dad's coming for me. So, you better get going too, if you want to catch a ride from someone or something."

"Your Dad?" she asked excited.

Dean groaned. Knowing Nat, she would want to met Dad and probably invite herself on a ride. Hopefully Dad would be in the truck and Sammy would already be in the backseat.

Dean would never set Sammy with Nat. Poor kid would probably bang his head on the window from how much she talks. Dean sure wanted to.

Dean was saved from further talk as said vehicle peeled around the corner. Proving just where Dean's driving abilities came from; John sped to just feet from where he had spotted him and instantly stopped right next to him.

Dean grinned to the backseat towards Sammy. He turned back to Nat and turned his grin into a smirk.

"Here's my ride! See ya, Nat!" Dean said, untangling his arm from her hold and moving to step off of the curb and into the truck.

"Bye bab-"

Dean flipped around and shot off a warning glance, stilling Nat's words.

"Natalie, I'm not your baby. Nothing changed. Just, let it be, okay? Bye." Dean said in a no nonsense, low tone. He didn't want his father hearing him and asking questions, but he really didn't want anyone girl with the idea that they had claim to him.

That was all kinds of crazy.

"Whaa-" Nat started to ask, but Dean was already turning away into the truck.

"Hey, Dad. Hey, squirt," greeted Dean as he pulled himself up into the passenger seat.

"Hey Dean!" Sam greeted from where he was leaning towards a cardboard box, trying to pear inside it, see what was inside.

"Hey, son," replied John as he peeled out and away from the high school.

Dean eyed the box, then shared a look with Sammy and then back to the box again.

"Sammy, leave it," John warned, clearly having said it a few times before.

John glanced over to see his eldest twisted in the front seat looking back to his brother and the box. He should have left the damn box first.

"Dean, sit right or would you rather sit in the back?"

"No sir," Dean replied, twisting back around.

"Seatbelt."

Sighing, Dean put on the seatbelt. Behind him, Sammy slowly pulled his on as well, having ignored his father when he had told him the same thing. Sam was way too curious.

* * *

They drove for a minute, hearing most of Sammy's day. Some things twice for John. Then, having asked Dean how his day had gone and having gotten half decent responses, they pulled into their apartment driveway.

"Boys head inside and get starting on your work."

Twin "yessirs" and both boys hopped out of the truck and towards the door.

John sighed. He wasn't sure about how he wanted to go about doing this. Surely, he couldn't _not_ tell them what was going on. He had to keep them protected.

But could he manage to ignore what was so blatantly obvious? Could he look Dean and Sammy in the eyes and tell them that everything was okay?

John Winchester pushed his door open and then opened the backdoor to pull out the mysterious box. He had hoped he would never need these things.

* * *

Entering the house, John was pleased to see that Sammy had his work out on the kitchen table and was already working on it.

"Where's your brother?"

Sam shrugged, not looking up from what appeared to be history homework.

"He grabbed the phone and went into the room."

John sighed. He easily spotted his eldest's book bag carelessly tossed by the couch.

John set the box on the far end of the kitchen table. Sam glanced up at it. John looked back to him. He watched the curiosity dance in his youngest eyes.

"Sammy," John said sternly, causing Sam to turn to look at him guilty. John captured his attention before continuing. "Touch the box, and you're going to get it."

Sam's eyes widened slightly as he opened his mouth to comment. He quickly closed it and jerked his eyes back to his work.

"Sammy?"

"Yes sir," replied Sam quickly, not wanting to dwell on the thought.

John began to walk back to the hall. Passing Sam, he ruffled the long wavy strands.

"Good boy."

* * *

Dean was already jumped when there was a sharp knock on the door before it opened.

"Dad, hold on-"

"No, Dean. You were told to start your work. Off the phone, before I take it away completely."

Dean paled. He really needed to take this call.

"Just one minute," he said, but it came out as a whine.

"No. Now."

Dean groaned, but he ended the call and placed the phone on his father's outstretched hand.

"Thank you. Now, go to your bag and get your work to the table. When you boys are done, we need to talk."

Dean stood and walked out to the living room.

"Dad, I can explain last night. You see…"

"Save it," said John following behind him.

Setting the phone back, John grabbed the box, grateful Sam had heeded his warning, and set it aside in the hallway. Dean set his things down in the now empty space.

"Besides, though I do want a full report on your activities and whereabouts last night, I'm afraid there's something I've got to tell you."

tbc...Next Chapter: _Not All Fun And Games_

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**Well, that's chappie 9!! Wonder what it is that John has to say :/**

**Please review:D Have a great Day!!**


	10. Not All Fun and Games

Beautiful Innocence

By: chocolate rules

* * *

**A/N: I'm going to have to check myself for anesia or something, because I really have forgotten all about my stories. But, I'm back! And here's more. Thanks for all of you how've stuck around!! Luv ya!!!**

Chapter 10: Not All Fun and Games

* * *

The brothers exchanged a quick glance before looking back at their father. Sam had known the second that he had set eyes on that box that something was up. Dean wasn't too happy with what that look on his father's face meant. Surely they weren't moving yet. 

"Dad?"

John pulled out his journal from inside his jacket, flipping through some pages while he addressed his sons.

"I was researching my last hunt, seeing what had gone wrong, when I came across something."

Dean raised his eyebrow. Usually, their father wouldn't worry them over things like this before he had looked into it himself. To Dean, it sounded like his dad had just happened across something and was now presenting it to them. He wondered what it could possibly be to have his father change up on his 'need to know' basis of operations.

"What, Dad?" asked Sam.

Patience was never one of Sam Winchester's greatest attributes.

John didn't respond his children until he found the page of his notes that he had been looking for. He had thought that it would be the last page he had written on, but apparently, he had written more than he had thought.

Setting the journal in front of his eldest, John allowed the boys to gather besides each other and read over the notes, wondering if they would come up with the same conclusion that he had.

Dean read both of the pages presented to him. The more that he read, the more that he was confused. It wasn't that he wasn't pretty clear on what it was that had been presented to him, it was just the opposite. Why would their father show them something so _delicate_?

Sammy, on the other hand, was having a harder time at trying to decipher the hieroglyphics that his Dad called writing. He could feel Dean tensing up beside him, he knew that whatever it was that was written before him was something to be bothered about. Something probably pretty damn deadly. The thought sent shivers down his spine, but he still had no idea what was going on.

John caught Sam's gaze looking up at him. The boy had that questioning look in his eyes, and John understood that his son had no idea what was presented before him. He couldn't blame the kid, sometimes it even took _him_ a second look to understand whatever it was that was on those pages, and he had written it!

Before either could speak up, Dean baffled response interrupted their thoughts.

"Dad? Is this for real? Is this...really?"

Sam looked at his brother and back down at the notes. The worried tone that Dean was finding hard to mask really frightened him.

"Far as I can tell, son."

"What is it?"

Dean turned to his brother, ready to ask the kid if he was really that dense. How could he not possible understand the severity of what was being presented to him? Then, Dean noticed the blank, confused expression on his brother's face.

John walked over to the seat in front of the boys. He set himself down, rubbing a hand over his face.

"A few years ago, Sammy, I went after this creature. You were about seven, and I left you and your brother behind at Joshua's, so that Olivia could look after you two. Josh and me went after this thing, chased it for a whole week before it finally gave us the slip. When we were coming back home, Josh was beyond pissed that we hadn't killed the thing. He was worried over where the damn thing could have gone off to, when it would kill again. I was worried too, but not like Josh had been." John sighed, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head at the memory.

"We stopped for the night, camping out because we barely had enough money left to fill up the Impala for the trip back home. I thought that he had headed to bed at the same time that I had. But, some three hours after I'd fallen asleep, I hear some - well, I guess it was whispering. Now, mind you, only me and Josh were on the grounds, so I couldn't think of a person that he'd be taking too. Actually thought that he was praying or something. Then he started screaming, and I got out of my tent, rifle at the ready."

Dean was watching his brother as his father's story went on. He had heard it once before, when he had been twelve. He had overheard his father and Olivia talking when John had returned home from the hunt without Josh. Sam had always wondered what had caused Josh that permanent limp and probably didn't remember the men before the accident.

John sighed into his hands, he wasn't sure that he really wanted to finish the story, now that he had begun. He and Josh never talked about it; no one ever wants to remember their last hunt, or ultimate moment of stupidity. But, John knew that if what he was seeing out of the papers were right, and then he'd need someone watching his back. And if he could have _both_ of his sons' watching out for him and each other than he was pretty certain that this certain critter wouldn't get the slip on them this time.

Or so he hoped.

"What happened?" Sam asked worriedly. It was as if the boy didn't recall that their friend was currently _alive_ still.

Dean bit his lip, trying to think the situation through. From what he remembered, the story wasn't really pretty here on in.

"Dad? Maybe, maybe you should just stop. I, um, I don't think that Sam, uh _we_, we need to hear any more. We'll help out any way that we can, behind you all the way. You know that."

John nodded at his eldest, pleased to hear the immediate thought of following him in to a battle.

"Sammy, listen,"

"No, Dad. Just, he doesn't need to know about _that_!"

John locked eyes with Dean and shook his head.

"He should know what I'm asking of you boys. I want him aware of what's out there, son."

"What? What is it? What happened!"

John sighed, maybe growling a little bit.

"I couldn't get a clear shot. The damn thing wouldn't stop fighting with him. And to top that off, Josh is a pretty damn good fighter, and he wasn't going to give in either," John said softly, hopping to lessen the blow for the boy. "This thing, it mangled Josh's legs, Sam. Made him walk about crippled. Now, if you want to back out of this, I get that. This is some pretty intense request here now."

Sam stilled. He could feel every hair on his body stand at that. Not only was their father giving them an option, something that never happened without some sort of fight, but he was asking something that he had never asked of his youngest.

Something that the little boy had no idea would hit him so hard.

"So, you, um, you want me to _hunt_ with you?"

tbc...Chapter 11 coming real soon!

* * *

**So, the question still remains, what's in that box? Please Review! Thanks :D**


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